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  • Writer's pictureSophie

Day 544

I was in sixth grade when I heard over the intercom that they would be evacuating students immediately. Naturally, being 11 years old, my class rejoiced in claps and cheers that we got to go home for the day. We all quickly packed our bags and headed towards the gym to be picked up. We were greeted with gym mats laid out all over the floor for light-headed students due to smoke inhalation. The air in the gym felt coarse and rough on my throat, I struggled for a gasp of air underneath the haze. In a moment of desperation, I headed towards a window for a fresh breath of air. When I looked out the window, all I could see was the hazy ash in the sky and a faint orange glow on the horizon.

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